Sincere apologies for the ridiculous delay. I did not want my period of grief to infiltrate the story and run off into some direction I did not actually want for it, so here we are to carry on properly.
"I am so very worried about you." The Sherriff spoke with a dactyl tone, stubby fingers picking at filth underneath his nails. Guy glanced off and gave no answer. Warm light filtered in through the castle windows but its freeing sensation did not reach the back of the lounge where the men were; they stuck to the shadows where only the cold resided. Vesey champed at the rim on a fingernail and gestured his head for the guards to leave which, to no surprise, was honored immediately. So here Guy sat alone with his mutated form of a father staring down in patronizing disapproval. His breaths were drawn out, not able to come quickly due to the stone weight on his chest. For what, though, he did not quite have figured out. A guilt had burrowed into Guy for a seemingly arbitrary purpose.
"I have brought your territory out past the fringes of Nottingham. Your county has extended into both Leicestershire and Lincolnshire because of my men." He humbly brought up. This affirmation was not intended for Vesey, he realized. Rather it was a comfort that he had not failed or deserved any reprimanding on this day.
"Yes… But what are you doing while your men take villages, Gisborne? Hmm?"
"I do not understand." his deep voice admitted just before looking at his boss.
"From what I hear she is just outside of Nettlestone; and quite a pretty thing to be busy with." Vesey's eyebrow plucked up as Gisborne's lips taped together with a water tight seal. His eyes drifted again.
"She is not a distraction."
"I do not believe one word of that," The Sherriff served back immediately as he hurried closer to his associate, "Gisborne, everything and everyone is a distraction. Have you forgotten? All that is important is bettering yourself and your King, now I can't possibly see what whisking about with some girl is going to do to get John on the throne, and so help me…You cannot hope to make anything perfect if you are not perfect. Hone yourself. Practice. Be superior."
"She is perfect."
"Do what?"
"She is perfect." Guy muttered at an equally soft decibel as before. A foul and false grin found its way onto Vesey as he absorbed the entirety of the grave situation; he was losing his right hand man to feeling. Emotion. Who else would run an underground empire with unswayable devotion? He had molded Guy psychologically to ensure that he would die for the cause if necessary and now he wanted to be loved? Feelings would bury progress.
"My dear boy," he slid a hand onto the leather shoulder of the tortured Gisborne, "the last thing I want to see is you getting hurt, falling from grace. Nottingham castle will topple if it is focused on a little girl from your Sunday school." Sharpness found its way in due to the fact that Vesey could not contain himself or his panic.
"This has nothing to do with the castle." He assured.
"Is that so? A little bird told me that my resources had gone to build property for Kirkslee's Orphanage all last week… do tell me about that." The Sherriff's eyelids narrowed to a poisonous squint. Guy shot up, fired by anxiety, and walked towards the window. His efforts to help April were not something he could feel ashamed of and yet he so desperately craved to tear a shovel out and bury all evidence of it before his boss. The Sherriff held no remorse, no pity, no compassion, no soul, and that had been ingrained into Guy's behavior. He was starting to see, though, that the hand-woven shell of leather and harshness was not who he truly was. Gisborne had thoughts of his own and it scared him.
"There are forty children out there," he truthfully divulged, "and not one of us has the time to scrape stolen loot from their hands here in town. Best to keep them out of Nottingham and out of crime."
Vesey nibbled his bottom lip and allowed his mind to shoot down multiple railways of logic; he had lost control of Gisborne and he had to find a way to clasp it back into his grip. What better way, he pondered, than utilizing his new weakness?
"Forty you say? Hmm that's quite a lot, you're right, Gisborne. They don't belong in town…" Vesey sucked a chunk of air between his teeth and met his companion at the glass pane, "Perhaps they would do better elsewhere."
"Sire?" Guy crooked his head to an angle and swallowed hard.
"Well now that the border with Lincolnshire is a bit messy I think some childlike innocence is in order, don't you?"
"Bargaining chips?"
"Soldiers." The glee in his voice clung to stagnant air. The Sherriff darted his eyes about with elation not unlike the unrefined joy of a child showered with gifts and sweets and rubbed the tips of his fingers together, as if sealing the details of the idea by hand.
"What?" the breathlessness spoke for itself.
"Oh, Gisborne, yes. Oh it will be beautiful; you shall lead a campaign of these little dirt children to take the frontline hits and wear out the enemy before the cavalry comes in, and who knows, maybe in the Holy Land –"
"That is disgusting!" Guy heard himself blurt out with a spit moments before a pang of worry sank in for his backtalk.
"What is disgusting, my boy," The Sherriff stepped closer, "is that as the face of this castle you are going to go to your little girlfriend's hut and tell her to that pretty little face that all of them are now mine. Or should I say, ours," He patted the man of leather on his shamed cheek and trotted out after saying, "And do know that I expect to hear back from her. If she doesn't get this message, well… I shall have to see that she is punished for ignorance." Guy slammed a palm to the stone wall before the hot sensation crawled up his spine and into the juices of his brain. He had to go to April, he had to run to her, he had to tell her. What they would do from there, he couldn't imagine, but he could not bear this without her.